


woke up this morning (with eyelids of lead)

by riverblujay



Series: non(bri)nary [3]
Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Dysphoria, Friends to Lovers, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Nonbinary Brian, Nonbinary Character, a ridiculous level of sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 01:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18906799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverblujay/pseuds/riverblujay
Summary: mondays were objectively the worst, brian decided then and there. as they rolled out of bed on sheer willpower and stubbornness, they couldn’t seem to force themself to wear anything particularly masculine (or feminine, for that matter—gender was capital-f-Fake, and could back the fuck off, and brian didn’t have to fit into any boxes they didn’t want to (which was fucking none of them), thank you very much).





	woke up this morning (with eyelids of lead)

**Author's Note:**

> ok so this kinda just. flowed out of me?? idk but im mostly living for it
> 
> many thanks to [fishcola](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishcola/pseuds/fishcola) for reading over this and giving their thoughts.
> 
> 1) title/sections are "history read" lyrics, again, because that's just how it be sometimes  
> 2) outfit in beginning, as well as the comment referenced, is from the [fake artist goes to ny overboard](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2z8l9k38mk).  
> 3) i overuse italics, parentheses, and dashes. (and commas) get used to it lmao
> 
> finally, standard disclaimer: if you or anyone associated with you is portrayed in this fic, pls leave and don't read this to spare my dignity

 

 

 

 

**the timestamp on my forehead doesn't have enough ink**

Most days, Brian wasn’t dysphoric. They didn’t need to be; being nonbinary was just something they _were_ , regardless of whether or not that made them “trans enough” to some people.

(And sure, some shitheads would say that since they had even a little dysphoria, some of the time, that “counted.” But they didn’t like the idea of gatekeeping, in general or on principle—where would it stop, otherwise? When they had any dysphoria? When they had as much as someone else who arbitrarily wanted to decide whether they were “really trans” or not? When they had _more_?)

But evidently, today wasn’t _most days_ . Today was the kind of day where the instant Brian got out of their bed they could feel the ache settling into their bones, the fiery soreness of _wrong wrong w r o n g_ that could pervasively trail them for hours or days (or, when they were Younger and hadn’t quite figured most things about their gender out yet, weeks (and in all honesty, probably years too)).

Mondays were objectively the worst, Brian decided then and there. As they rolled out of bed on sheer willpower and stubbornness, they couldn’t seem to force themself to wear anything particularly masculine (or _feminine_ , for that matter—gender was capital-f-Fake, and could back the _fuck_ off, and Brian didn’t have to fit into any boxes they didn’t want to (which was fucking _none of them_ ), thank you very much). They squinted tiredly at their closet before selecting a plain, uncollared button up, slate gray jeans, and a denim jacket. Brian half-stumbled into their apartment’s singular bathroom and put in their contacts with practiced ease.

Brian totally, _definitely_ , wasn’t glaring at the mirror, as if by staring at their appearance enough it would miraculously change and get rid of the feeling of _not quite right_. Unfortunately, the only thing they seemed to succeed in doing was making themself even more uncomfortable. They sighed and ran their hands through their hair a few times until it looked mostly presentable before bustling around to get ready for work.

Most importantly, they carefully fastened their favorite enamel pronoun pin onto their jacket. Brian normally didn’t wear one to work, nowadays, after the first time they had done so, and came out to everyone, and their co-workers had gotten used to them not being a guy and using they/them in the office (but keeping up with using he/him in videos and streams). Still, sometimes—sometimes it helped them to have an outward reminder of their identity to hold onto, on days like this.

They checked their watch— _7:34._ Enough time to have breakfast, or at least coffee, Brian figured. They made their way into the kitchen and found Laura already sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal. She raised an eyebrow at them once she noticed the pin.

“Bad dysphoria day?” She asked.

Brian hummed affirmatively in response, tiredly starting a pot of coffee. These kinds of days, especially, they felt low on energy and lethargic. Their sister nodded and went back to her cereal, leaving the only sound the soft _drip drip drip_ as the coffee pot began to wind down. Brian stared at it, lost in their own thoughts.

“You gonna be alright?” Laura hesitantly asked them. They knew what she meant, what went unsaid; _do you need anything? is there something,_ anything, _I can do to help you? what can make this shitty thing you have to deal with easier?_

Brian made their face contort into a half smile at their sister. “Yeah,” they tried to say as confidently as possible, “it'll be fine.” Laura looked unsure, but stood and rinsed out her cereal bowl in the sink anyway. As she left, and they were pouring coffee into their travel mug—they took it with just a little hazelnut creamer, nothing else—she patted them comfortingly on their shoulder.

“Thanks,” Brian said in appreciation. The siblings exchanged another tense smile with one another as Laura left to get herself ready for the day.

They had been really lucky—fortunate, blessed, _whatever_ you wanted to call it—to have siblings as great as the ones they did.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**it fades a little more with every thought that i think**

The day goes by… okay enough, Brian supposes.

It wasn’t like it was _great_ —the dysphoria that had hit them hard when they awoke trailed them all morning and afternoon. It was the kind of feeling that made Brian just want to lay in bed or nap or generally not think about anything, so at least work meant they were doing one of those things (not thinking about it, because they had shit to do today).

Brian had also (semi-regretfully) moved their pin into a pocket once they remembered there was an Overboard episode they were in being filmed today (okay, it may have _actually_ been right before Clayton started filming, if they wanted to get technical about it), but at least the game was fun and no one really seemed to notice anything _off_ about them.

(Except Pat, who seemed to notice everything when it came to Brian. Not that they minded, to be honest. Which was maybe weird, but Brian had found it was best if they just didn’t question it.)

He messaged them over Slack, after lunch when everyone had returned to their own projects:

 

_pat: wanna get dinner later??_

_pat: there’s a pizza place i’ve been meaning to hit up_

_pat: if you’re down_

 

_bdg: sure_

 

_pat: cool_

_pat: i guess_

_pat: no offense or anything, but. you ‘kay today?_

 

_bdg: yeah_

_bdg: idk_

_bdg: kay enough i suppose_

 

_pat: alright_

_pat: talk to you later?_

 

_bdg: sounds good_

 

(So what if Brian left out some exclamation marks where they would normally add some? They were having a shitty day, that was all.)

The hours ticked by steadily, but it was all Brian could do to focus on their actual work. (Which currently meant obsessive final edits of the next Unraveled script, and honestly, should they _really_ ask a substantial amount of their co-workers to _sing_ a cover focused on fucking _Goombas_ and _Toad_ and way too many unclever puns?)

(At least they weren’t in editing stage yet—or filming, for that matter—god knows they would get irrationally frustrated looking at themself in a suit and tie for hours on end, today.)

Still, Brian found themself at least somewhat excited to hang out with Pat, tonight—

(Look, Bri and Pat aren't a _thing_ , okay, it wasn’t _like that_ , even if they kind of wanted it to be—nope, _nope,_ not a thing, no siree.

(They aren't a thing, but maybe they're not _not_ a thing either? Pat mostly danced around them like neither of the video producers wanted to make the first move, neither being sure or daring enough and both too afraid to screw up the easy atmosphere between them. Which was _fine,_ Brian was _fine_ , it wasn’t like they looked at Pat and just wanted to kiss his stupid face sometimes and that _stupidly handsome_ , scruffy, angular jawline—

(Okay, maybe they had a _slight_ problem.)

))

Like always, Brian was nearly at Pat’s side, only steps behind him as they followed him to the subway and from there to the restaurant. They thought about refastening their pronoun pin onto their jean jacket, but. This isn’t the office (safe, full of co-workers ( _friends_ ) that will fight for them if needed), or home (small, occasionally janky apartment, with their sister, and one of their best friends _ever_ , who have never minded their gender one bit (aka: not being cis, not being a boy or a girl, but somewhere in between yet also none of the above)), or anywhere with _guaranteed safety_ for Brian should they be open about them Not Being Cis.

They’ve got Pat, who, yeah, is always more than willing to throw hands in support of them, but it’s not fair to put him in that position unless absolutely necessary, no?

 _No,_ Brian chides themself, _it’s not_.

The waiter seats them, and for awhile it’s just two co-workers (or whatever they and Pat's relationship could be categorized as) talking about mostly work things—Pat reassuring them that yes, Brian and a number of other Polygon employees singing will drive their audience _nuts_ , and no, the script doesn’t need to be rewritten _again_ , “it’s amazing as is, Bri,” and also the mundane, like, “You wanna split a pepperoni?”

Brian raises an eyebrow. “A classic, huh?” they hum thoughtfully. “Yeah, alright,” Brian finished as the pair wait for their order to be taken. It’s only later, after their dinner arrives and they’ve had a few slices each that Pat asks.

“So,” he starts, voice not quite trembling but not unwavering either. “Not to be—fuck, I dunno—is it weird to say you’ve been. Well. Off, today? If you want to tell me to mind my own fucking business, I get it—” Pat cuts himself off with a sigh. Brian swallows his bite of pizza before interjecting.

“It’s fine. Just kind of a shitty day, that’s all.”

Brian can see the muscles on Pat’s face twitch as his lips pull into a frown; more of a grimace, really. “Something in particular?”

“Nothing particularly _new_ ,” they attempt to reassure. “It happens, from time to time. Sucks, but not a big deal.”

 _That’s a lie,_ Brian’s inner monologue scolds. _Pat can see right through you._

 _Shut the fuck up,_ they mentally yell.

“—a big deal to you, though.” Brian whips their head upwards so that they’re looking him directly in the eye.

The emotion that swells up inside them can't be  easily described as any one in particular. Pat's gaze is some strange cocktail of concern and curiosity and maybe a little fear. Probably fear _for_ Brian, which. They want to explain. They're just probably going to do a shit job of it, if Brian is being honest with themself.

Still, they at least owe it to Pat to try. Clearing their throat with a small cough, Brian starts, “I—I can't guarantee I'll explain it _well,_ ” they say. Pat nods reassuringly, so they continue. “But. It's. Sometimes—not that often, I swear—I get. Dysphoric,” they hear themself say, voice stilted as fuck but the words choking their way through Brian's throat regardless.

Pat raises a questioning eyebrow from across the table, the kind of glance that says _tell me about it, I care, I want to know these things about you._

“It's a gender thing,” Brian trails off. Their voice raises in pitch towards the end, so much so the sentence almost sounds like a question. “Just. Feeling weird—well, more like _bad_ —about your body. Like nothing fits right, or _is_ right, and it kind of fucking sucks,” they say. Their eyes and lips are tight, practically wincing once all of the words they feel capable of composing fall out of Brian's mouth.

“Hm,” Pat finally hums in acknowledgement after Brian's stared awkwardly at their plate for awhile. “You're right, that _does_ sound like it makes for a shitty day.”

Brian glances at Pat from under their eyelids to find what's best described as a sympathetic almost smile on his face, eyes completely focused on them. Brian shrugs, and manages to not gasp when they feel Pat suddenly but carefully lace their fingers  with his.

For a moment, it's the two of them, softly staring deep into the other's eyes, and maybe the terrible feeling that sometimes pushes itself out into the forefront of Brian's psyche isn't _gone,_ but for that one moment, it's _better_. Easier. More bearable.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**soak up the minutes that drip from the clock**

Brian usually makes a point of not reading the comments sections, because there’s so much bullshit that always has to be sorted through that everyone’s self esteem is better off like this.

Sometimes, though, there’s a rare gem—

 

 _They remember filming that overboard episode, and how a lot of their mind’s background noise was dysphoria, and at least the laughter seemed to cancel some of it out. But it’s weird, to have video evidence of a day where there was the thought “I hate my body” running through their head. Video!Brian doesn’t_ look _dysphoric_ — _then again, they’ve tried very hard to keep most parts of their life private, including this_ — _but it’s strange and slightly comforting to see how they looked on a day when their vision isn’t so clouded with the sense of_ wrong.

 _The video producer wasn’t expecting to see someone refer to them_ as _them, in the comments, or to have someone “correct” it and then someone_ else _call the “correction” into question. It made them feel strangely warm, to have some random stranger on the internet unknowingly pick up on their truth, even if they went through so many measures to hide it._

 

That is to say: Brian secretly _loves_ it when someone chooses not to default to _he/him_ when they talk about Brian.

It _does_ happen, believe it or not—they know they’re not the picture of masculinity (which, _goals_ ) but they’re obviously not a girl either. (It’s the dream, honestly, causing general confusion because someone else can’t decide if Brian is _m_ or _f_ or what box the metaphorical check mark should go in.)

They’re on another _not-date_ date with Patrick, the next time it happens outside comments sections and chat rooms and the internet; a simple, Saturday afternoon walk in Central Park because the two of them are kind of sappy like that.

Pat’s sitting next to them on a park bench, and the two of them are dangerously close to holding hands. (Which, fuck. Brian wants to so bad but they don't know if Pat's ready for that. Hell, technically the two of them aren't even _officially_ dating yet, because neither of them are particularly good at talking about their feelings.)

For now, they're just reveling in the moment, when Brian manages to hear, “Mommy, mommy! Look, the pretty nails!”

It takes a second, for them (and Pat) to search out the source of the voice; a small child maybe ten feet away, probably about kindergarten age, slowly dragging someone Brian assumes to be the child's mother towards them and Pat (the mom has an apologetic look on her face).

“Sorry,” she apologizes before Brian can even figure out what to say to her, “she saw your nails—Katie, be polite! Tell them _nicely_.”

For a split second, they feel like they have whiplash; there’s a startled, quiet gasp, and it takes Brian a few moments to realize its theirs. _Tell_ _them_ , Brian thinks, maybe a little stunned that of all places for someone to use the right pronouns without prompting it’s a middle-aged mom and her maybe-five-years-old child.

“I like your nails,” the kid ( _Katie_ , their mind supplies, because her mom _just_ mentioned it, _Brian_ ) says reverently. “They’re very pretty.”

Brian leans forward slightly. “Thank you,” they say, with equal gravitas.

Katie’s eyes dart around as if she’s spilling some kind of secret, whispering, “I didn’t know adults could paint their nails pretty colors.”

“Some don’t,” Brian admits, just as secretively, “but that’s a little boring, don’t you think?”

She giggles, and they extend their hand out to shake. “Hi. My name is Brian,” they state matter-of-factly, and she laughs again at their faux-seriousness but reaches her tiny hand out and shakes theirs anyways. “I’m Katie!” She exclaims. “I’m almost five.”

“Really? Congratulations—that’s a very important age to be,” they smile, and miraculously she smiles brightly back at them, a gap toothed grin that exudes pure _joy_ in a way that only a little kid's could.

“Okay, Katie, time to go now, say goodbye to Brian. They were _very nice_ to let you see their nails,” her mother interjects, rushed.

Their smile turns a little flushed, at that, but they’re still warm and fuzzy and reeling from something as seemingly small as two words. “It was no problem,” Brian says calmly. Katie and her mother both wave at them as the pair walk away from the park bench, neither probably realizing how long their words would stick with Brian (here’s a hint: a _long ass time_ , because they were going to hold onto this memory tightly for the sake of future bad days and future good days, or maybe just future days in general).

Pat’s silent, for the next few minutes, enough time for Katie and her mom to be long gone. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft but not quite a whisper.

“You’re good with kids,” he tells them. Brian looks at Pat wide eyes and a quirked eyebrow. “You think so?” they ask in response.

“Definitely,” Pat assures them. Brian blushes and looks away for a minute to collect themself. Still flying on the feeling of—whatever this opposite of being misgendered is even _called_ —they have a surge of confidence and extend their left hand just a little more, enough to take Pat’s hand in their own and grip it comfortingly.

This time, it’s Pat who gasps softly. He turns to look at them and Brian offers a small, nervous smile. Pat grips their hand back, gently squeezing it and smiling in return.

 

 

 

 

**hush all the ticks before they start to tock**

**woke up this morning with eyelids of lead**

  


 

 

 

**you pulled up the blankets to cover my head**

Performing at PAX was wild, honestly—a show that was a month in the making that Brian somehow managed to pull off pretty much without a hitch (thanks to Pat, Simone, plus maybe _literally everyone_ at Polygon, honestly). It was stressful, and fun, and even though they were reeling a bit they had loved every minute of the experience.

They didn’t get to spend much time with each individual person in the meet-and-greet, afterwards, but. Seeing all of these people there because they loved _Brian’s_ _content?_ It was kind of insane and also made them feel… really, _really_ good inside. A kind of warmth that only other creators and performers understood, because nothing else could compare to it, not even close.

“Um,” the next person in line starts their request shyly, “can I get a video of the three of you saying ‘trans rights?’ If that’s okay?”

Brian doesn’t _actually_ freeze in place, but it certainly felt like they did. Selfishly, their first thought is _do they know? did someone, somehow, find out?_  but then wipe that thought away with a huge grin. They know it’s kind of a meme, and that no one who will randomly see this video on the internet actually _knows_ , but Brian feels a little giddy anyways.

It shouldn’t necessarily feel like _validation_ , or like how their heart swells whenever they hear a casual _they_ or _them_ at work (like it’s the easiest and most natural thing in the world for any and all of their co-workers (which is still one of the best feelings they could ever experience, to Brian; their pronouns suddenly being _okay_ and _accepted_ when before they had spent the days trudging along with the grating _he/him/his_ following them wherever they went)) even though it’s been months since they came out, but it does. Brian isn’t being asked to say it for themself, but it feels more _personal_ than Pat or Simone saying it, because this is something Brian intimately _knows_ . They don’t outwardly show any signs that say _this is me, too_ , but their heart soars with quiet pride.

(Later, they wonder what it would be like to have pride that was maybe a little _less_ quiet.

(It’s simultaneously the hardest and easiest thing in the world to imagine—the hardest, because they’re very much a person that values _privacy_ and make a point to not overshare with the internet. The idea of being _out_ out, online, is kind of terrifying to Brian. It’s not that they haven’t had to put up with their own share of transphobia over the years, but.

Some—not a lot, anymore, but _some_ —people are still dicks about their long hair and nail polish. For every comment that makes Brian swoon in happiness, there’s a hundred out there that they never want to read. And yet, there’s a strange pull to the idea, even though it’s scary to imagine this part of their life they’ve kept hidden for years from everyone except close friends and people they know in real life out in the open.

The pull isn’t necessarily _life will be easy if i do this,_ but more so the idea that maybe part of their audience can see themselves in Brian. The pull is this: they figure that if they had seen someone like them when they were younger, had known being nonbinary was a _thing_ , then they might have figured everything out a lot sooner.)

(Sometimes, they think about what it would be like, to wear the colors and metaphorical flag of yellow, white, purple, and black; or even one of blue, pink, and white. Brian wonders and _wonders_ and has more than once agonized over something so seemingly simple as a twitter bio at late hours of the night when they’re dead tired and almost impulsive enough to keep the edited version.

They never do, but Brian wonders whether or not it’s the thought that counts.

))

Immediately after the person had asked, Pat and Simone and Brian all agreed in a heartbeat. They also knew that Simone and Pat were being as stealthy about the whole _oh yeah, Brian’s not cis_ thing as possible (which they appreciated. Their friends fucking _ruled_ ).

It’s not _hard_ , throwing together some Jojo poses and all shouting “TRANS RIGHTS!” in unison, but something about the thirty second—if that—exchange _does_ bring out the warm and fuzzy feeling in Brian that they get sometimes when they felt especially validated, or whatever.

When the video goes up on twitter, it’s very cool (in a secretive way, because no one _knows_ ) to see other trans people being excited at it. There’s art made of them, Pat, and Simone, there’s so, _so_ many positive and encouraging comments. Brian shows it to Laura, and she laughs a little at their enthusiasm and wants to send it to mom.

(“Lauraaaa,” they whine as she tries to take Brian’s phone from them by force. “Nooooo.”

They manage to pocket it before she can grab it, so she ruffles their chin-length curls instead while rolling her eyes. A moment later, she breaks out into laughter.

“What?” Brian asks, maybe a little petulantly. Their sister continues to snicker for a minute before calming down enough to speak. “Mom’s gonna see you mentioning her once the video goes up, Bri,” and that’s all it takes for Laura to devolve into giggles again. Brian wants to groan, because they had _technically_ known that, yeah, their mother would see them using her for… comedic timing. At Brian’s expense.

“Dork,” they affectionately respond instead, snorting at their sister. This, of course, only makes Laura cackle harder and Brian eventually cave into the atmosphere and start laughing as well.)

As funny as the video is, they also will admit that it never fails to lighten their mood, no matter how shitty their day is going (or, in one memorable case, how dysphoric they were). It’s a positive force in Brian’s life, because it’s their friends (and them) shouting _trans rights!_ and the replies are filled with encouragement and support (of trans people!), and that’s something that can always make Brian feel better in random moments of despair (or dysphoria).

So yeah, maybe they rewatch the video more than a few times. Sometimes life is just like that, okay? And sure, maybe the video is something that rattles around in the back of their mind for ages, and honestly might do so forever, but that was okay.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**oh, i might be dreaming**

“Is it weird that I'm thinking about. Well, I guess—coming out? Online, I mean,” Brian asks Pat one evening on a _barely_ not date date (progress, they supposed) that was really just the two of them playing Smash together in Pat's apartment again.

He didn't frown, necessarily, but he did pause the round and look at them seriously. “It's something that's totally up to you, in all honesty.”

They grimace. “Yeah, I know. Just—the idea of it has kind of been floating around my head more since PAX,” Brian admitted. “I dunno. It’s weird.”

Pat only hesitated for a second, this time, before he reaches his arm over and starts rubbing small circles onto Brian's thigh with his thumb, just above their knee. “Whatever you decide to do,” he said matter-of-factly, “everyone will support your choice. You know that, right? Especially—especially me.”

They turned their head towards him. Pat's face was flushed, cheeks pink and rosy, and he was biting his lip hard enough that Brian wasn't sure whether or not he had broken the skin already.

“Pat,” they began, angling themself so that they were close to directly addressing their friend—who was maybe more, or maybe _willing_ to be more—sitting next to them, even though the two of them were the only ones home. _Something has to give eventually,_ Brian thought to themself, _might as well be now_. “Are… are we dating? Or, just—fuck, I don't know—but I don't want to avoid the topic forever. Like we have been. So are we or not?”

He takes a deep breath before facing them straight on, turning his entire body so that every aspect of him is parallel to Brian. “Well,” Pat states, looking them directly in the eye, giving neither of them the chance to back down. “Do you… do you _want_ to be dating?”

They jut their chin upwards only the slightest bit, but the action still gives off an air of stubborn defiance. “If I did, Pat Gill?” Brian asks him. There was no waver in their voice; they had run from what the two of them could have, could _be_ , for far too long.

Pat doesn't back away. “Then I guess that answers your question.”

It's not like the movies, where the couple slowly and perfectly meets in the middle for a kiss. It's desperate, a contest (like so many things they share, to be honest), a battle of wills. There's no slow, romantic montage that plays in Brian's head.

No, they kiss each other with reckless abandon. Neither Pat nor Brian want to slow down, or play it safe, or dance around each other, because they had done that for long enough already.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**or i might be dead**

In the end, Brian knows that they don’t _have_ to do it. Not really. They could keep this one thing private, above all else in their life, and no one on the web would be any the wiser.

(But each time they think about it, _really_ think about it, they somehow circle back to _I wish I had seen more people like me_ or _I wish that I had known being nonbinary was a_ thing _back when I first started realizing I wasn’t cis._ Every time, in every scenario, someone seeing themself in Brian usually feels like it outweighs people being dicks to them in the comments.

(It does scare them, if Brian is being honest with themself. Because this is the kind of thing they can’t return from; once it’s on the internet, it’s there forever, and they can’t take it back. They can’t go _just kidding,_ they can’t go back to pretending, and they can’t return to this state where none of the strangers that follow them know this one aspect of them that both does and doesn’t define who they are (they can’t do anything other than be unrepentantly themself).

))

So, yeah, maybe they don’t _have_ to come out to the entire world, but Brian is starting to get to the point where they kind of _want_ to. It’s a big step, and they don’t take it lightly—deliberating over it for ages, weeks and weeks, until they’re sure.

(They don’t do it right away, though—they pitch a video idea to Tara, first, something different from what they usually produce.

“And you’re sure?” She’d asked them with a serious glance.

Brian had nodded stiffly with determination, and said, “Yeah, I’m sure,” so she gave them the go-ahead for a project that was something they had realized they _needed_ to do. A video that was important and personal and needed to exist, and who better to create it than them?)

The video is ready to go up relatively soon, all things considered, in part because Brian dives head first into the project (despite everything else they’re working on, because apparently they are incapable of chilling for _five goddamn minutes_ in their entire life). They show it to a few of their co-workers, before it’s uploaded, or at least give them a heads-up.

(Laura, when they’d told her, had said, _I’m proud of you, Bri. That’s really brave._ Jonah had smiled and said _good for you, dude_.

(Patrick, once Brian had told him their decision, had smiled warmly and calmly stated,

“I’m happy for you,”

before both of them got a _little_ distracted with kissing each other, Pat’s hands tangling in their long hair as he pulled Brian closer to him on the couch.))

  
  
  
  


 

 

**my heaven is fleeting**

Just a few minutes before the video goes live, Brian finally saves the edit to their twitter bio, firmly pushing the statement of _they/them_ out into the world. They’re almost surprised by how rapidly they get tweets about it (as in, _right away_ , the fuck?) but they ignore the questions until the video is public and they retweet the official Polygon account’s link to it.

 

 

> **brian david gilbert** | @briamgilbert _retweeted_ **Polygon** | @Polygon
> 
> I debated on whether or not to make a video like this for a long time, but in the end decided that if me coming out could help even one person struggling with their gender identity, it was worth it. (1/)
> 
>  
> 
> **Polygon |** @Polygon
> 
> Representation matters—and characters that I see myself in are an example of why.  youtube.com/watc…
> 
> **How nonbinary characters make video games better**
> 
>  
> 
> **brian david gilbert** | @briamgilbert
> 
> I've always had somewhat of a nebulous relationship with gender/presentation, and I think most people that watch my videos pick up on that. The truth is that I'm not strictly a boy or a girl, and I use they/them pronouns in my everyday life. (2/)
> 
>  
> 
> **brian david gilbert** | @briamgilbert
> 
> Being nonbinary is something I didn't realize about myself until I was in college, partly because in terms of trans representation we're among the lower demographics. My hope is that by being open with my gender, more people will be able to figure themselves out. (3/3)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **brian david gilbert** | @briamgilbert
> 
> re: all of the tweets asking about me changing pronouns in my bio- yes, i’m serious, and yes, i expect you to use them

  
  


**How nonbinary characters make video games better**

13,941 views

 

 **| Polygon |**                **| Subscribe |**

Ever thought about what it would be like to play as a character that’s not male _or_ female? Brian David Gilbert has, so they answered this question and also discuss the history of trans representation in games, including how characters outside the gender binary improve them.

 

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[VIDEO TRANSCRIPT:

 

Say you’re faced with the all too common choice: what gender character are you going to play as in a game? Some people want to play a more interesting storyline, and end up choosing the option that’s not their assigned gender at birth. Others choose to almost always use an avatar of their AGAB, for reasons that are unique to every player.

But what if you wanted to play as your gender, except you rarely find playable characters—or even NPCs—that share your gender?

In order for everyone to understand this video, I need to explain a few things. First up is a word that I’m going to be saying a lot: nonbinary. “Nonbinary” is used to refer to people who identify outside of the “gender binary,” or in other words, as neither male nor female. There’s actually a whole spectrum of ways a nonbinary person can identify, but that’s the gist of it.

“But Brian,” you say. “Why does that matter? It’s not like I know people like that.”

Congratulations! You actually already know of at least one nonbinary person—me, Brian David Gilbert. I’ll give you exactly five seconds to be surprised—five, four, three, two, and… one. Okay, time’s up.

Next up is pronouns. For trans people, pronouns are incredibly important, because using the pronouns that align with our gender is great, but being misgendered sucks. Most people use either he/him or she/her, but many nonbinary people, including myself, may be more comfortable with they/them pronouns. And yes, they/them _is_ grammatically correct when referring to a single person, no matter what your middle school English teacher will try to tell you.

[[ASIDE] Side note: if you’re ever unsure of someone’s pronouns, just ask them! I promise we don’t bite. We’ll probably be very happy you asked us, actually.]

How does any of this relate to video games, though? I’m glad you asked. Well, you probably didn’t ask, but you must be at least curious if you clicked on this video and have made it this far.

 

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874 Comments 

 

[pinned comment]

Polygon: trans rights y'all -bdg

 _View 33 replies_   v

 

lgbTEA: brian!!! an nb icon!! we stan!!!!

 

Baylor Halward: Love the new vid, congrats

 

RandomFandom1948201: interesting take. they did a good job on this

 

unraveled STAN: bri,,, im love,,,,,, ((as a (fellow, which is still really cool for me to say!!) nonbinary person who also uses they/them pronouns i appreciate this on a level i will never be able to fully describe. all i can say is thank you for using your platform to bring visibility to us.))

bdg sAYS TRANS RIGHTS MOTHERFUCKERS

 

Trevor R: Wow, can’t believe this. So sad because I loved his other content. Unsubbed

> lgbTEA: begone, transphobe. in this house we support bdg and their gender and their pronouns

 

chaotic enby: trans rights babey!!

 

[load 833 more comments]

  
  


 

 

 

> **Pat “Knife Museum” Gill** | @Pizza_Suplex _retweeted_ **brian david gilbert** | @briamgilbert
> 
> FYI, if you don’t support Brian being nonbinary and use their pronouns, (1) congrats, you’re transphobic, and (2) unfollow me right now.
> 
>  
> 
> **brian david gilbert** | @briamgilbert
> 
> re: all of the tweets asking about me changing pronouns in my bio- yes, i’m serious, and yes, i expect you to use them
> 
>  
> 
> **Simone de Rochefort** | @doomquasar _replying to_ @Pizza_Suplex and @briamgilbert
> 
> RESPECT PEOPLE’S PRONOUNS, BITCHES 
> 
> **Simone de Rochefort** | @doomquasar _replying to_ @Pizza_Suplex, @briamgilbert, and @doomquasar
> 
> ESPECIALLY THEY/THEM PRONOUNS

  
  


 

 

**my history, read**

They don’t necessarily _lie low_ in the aftermath of Coming Out (they think it deserves the capital letters, to be honest) but Brian doesn’t necessarily be _obvious_ either. Sure, they told the internet and now everyone at Polygon-dot-com is even more fiercely supportive of their pronouns, and most of their viewers as well—it’s particularly heartwarming to see their subscribers correct someone that misgenders them in the comments, at the drop of a hat, that they’re willing to do that for _Brian_.

But they still haven’t, like, worn anything especially Not Cis on film either. It’s like the first time they wore a skirt to work; it takes some time, because they have to work themself up to the idea, and then actually follow through with it.

It’s almost fitting, really, that Brian decides the first appearance of their lesser-known-to-the-internet wardrobe is in an Overboard episode. (They think it’s maybe ironic, or funny, or something they don’t know what to call—they technically, in a manner of speaking, could have come out months ago by keeping their pronoun pin on. They wouldn’t have, of course, but it’s an interesting fact nonetheless.)

Anyways.

They stare at their closet for longer than they probably should have, trying to figure out what exactly they want to wear (too _eh_ , too much, cute but also _really_ feminine (technically, but also they're not really feeling a dress today, you know?), and so on and so forth.

Eventually, they _do_ find something, and force down the thoughts of “yeah, but what if it's too much for being on camera?” because _fuck it_ , Brian's worn skirts to work before, been doing so for months, so even if it's the first time the viewers will see them in one it's not like it's anything _new_.

They pair the dark purple a-line with a cute button up, the vaguely floral pattern set atop solid black. On a whim, Brian also decides to put on a pronoun pin, not their classic yet simple one with silver lettering and a smooth, dark-as-ink black, but instead one with the nonbinary flag set as the background. (Also, they had been planning for this, so last night in a moment of inspiration the video producer had painted their nails with certain colors in mind—purple with a black accent nail.

(Maybe another day, Brian would dig out their blue, pink, and white polish, and coordinate their nails with the trans flag. That would be fun.

))

Their co-workers are the _fucking best_ , because no one bats an eye at Brian's outfit. And also maybe too pointedly use their pronouns at every possible opportunity. (Especially Pat.)

(God, they love these people. So much.)

The episode isn't released for a few weeks yet, but when it is, Clayton's editing is superb, as always. There are a few people that are transphobic shitheads about Brian in the comments, but most everyone either doesn't care or proclaims love about the way they're dressed. Some even pick up on their nails.

Honestly, after a few weeks, everything mostly settles down. It just kind of becomes a fact of life, an _oh yeah by the way, bdg, they're nonbinary, how cool is that??_

Speaking of facts of life—

Pat and Brian are dating. Which is cool. They're not super obvious about it, especially at work, but they like. Go on dates and stuff.

It's fun, and amazing, and Brian is maybe a little bit a lot in love. (Wild.)

Pat's favorite things to do on dates are, like, ridiculously sappy, because Pat is secretly really Soft and kind of a Sap. Their boyfriend (god, Pat's their _boyfriend_ , how great is that) doesn't _mind_ doing fancy things for their dates, but Brian and Pat are both practical people (and fancy dates are _expensive_ , not to mention they live in NYC) and also—

There's something _special_ about just existing in the same space. Playing Smash together. Sitting in Central Park. Meeting up at a local, non-chain coffee shop (“In this house we support local businesses, Bri,” Pat said once, because apparently Pat called himself an old man all the time but was still mostly fluent in memes).

But days like today are Brian's favorites, because it's just the two of them in Pat's apartment, sitting on the couch and not really paying attention to the movie they'd put on, inserting themselves into each other's space like it was their job to do so.

Pat is running his hand through their chin-length curls soothingly, when he talks for the first time in ages that night.

(They've noticed how Pat gets… quiet, sometimes. As if some days words don't come easily to him and it's too hard to force them to leave his mouth. They haven't talked about it, yet, but Brian wants to learn every detail about Pat as much as Pat wants to learn all he can about them. It's not something to talk about today, or maybe even the near future, but Brian is sure Pat'll be ready to tell them someday.)

“Hey, Bri,” he almost murmurs. They turn towards Pat but end up with their head leaning on their boyfriend's shoulder as he continues to play with their hair.

“Mm, what?” They hum affectionately.

Pat clears his throat. “What was it like, coming out to everyone?”

“A little scary, I guess,” Brian says thoughtfully. “But. I dunno. I finally felt like it was worth it. And, like, it wasn't necessarily something I _had_ to do, because obviously no one owes anyone that kind of personal shit, but it is nice to be able to use my pronouns—you know, my _actual_ pronouns—in. Like. All parts of my life.” They frown. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” Pat agrees, a little softly. Brian snuggles up to him even more. “I know you probably know this, but it means a lot. That you don't mind me not being cis. Or whatever, I guess,” they mumble.

Pat presses a gentle kiss on the crown of their head. “Of course I don't mind,” he says. “I love you, no matter what pronouns you use, or if you're cis or trans, or anything else.” They lift their head up to look at his face and find him blushing. “Sorry,” Pat apologizes, “maybe that was a little much.”

Brian smiles at him. “Nah. That was perfect, Pat Gill. A plus on wooing your datemate. And also,” they breathe, words barely audible and on the edge of their tongue, “I love you, too.” Before their boyfriend can formulate a response to that, Brian silences him with a kiss on the lips. He kisses back, and it's not like the movies, but Brian swears they can feel stars colliding with every passing second.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i really murdered myself with formatting tbh
> 
> i put a read more for the video script bc i was _not_ going to do the actual research for that, sorry not sorry
> 
> all usernames in the yt comments section are completely fictional and any users that may potentially have those usernames are not affiliated with this work
> 
> edit: it's one am and im an impulsive, chaotic being, so i have no restraint in editing this a/n to say that pretty much none of you have gotten the pun i left in the tweets section on your own and that's depressing because i cackled out loud for like five minutes straight when i unintentionally wrote/thought of it (re: pronouns tweet. yeah im fuckin hilarious yall are fOOLS)


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